Faith
by Dlvvanzor
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, the day Matt first believed in God wasn't the day he met Mello, and it wasn't the day they survived the Takada kidnapping.  Matt POV oneshot, MxM


**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**Unrelated A/N: Did you know that the guy who does the English voice of L is also in Battlestar Galactica? And that... in BG... he sings? "Gaeta's Lament." It's a really haunting song, plus it's the voice of the L we know and love... I'm sure many people have already heard it, but I bought the song on iTunes a while ago and was thinking about it. There's a really good video on YouTube of the scene in episode twenty-five where he stands in the rain with this song and lip-sync, but the full song repeats twice, getting more powerful over time.**

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**I can tell you the exact day I started to believe in God.

It wasn't the day my horrible, violent, hypocrites of parents died. It wasn't the day I went to Wammy's. It wasn't even the day I met Mello, like it seems like it should be if I'm going to be sickeningly romantic. No, my Atheism was devout and it more than survived a few potential conversion moments.

It wasn't the day Mello survived kidnapping Takada, either. Honestly, I'm surprised that one didn't get me, because he _shouldn't _have survived that. You're not supposed to survive a suicide mission. Not, of course, that he ever outright told me that he was trying to die. After all, how can you tell your lover that you want to kill yourself? That just isn't a vote of confidence for the relationship, and anyway, I'm sure he knew that I knew. But I also knew that he knew that I knew that he wouldn't ever do it. Catholic, after all, means you don't get to kill yourself, but if it was death in order to stop Kira? Then it was for a good cause and it was justifiable. He could pretend it was an unfortunate consequence of "doing the right thing" or even pretend he was a martyr.

I tried to talk him out of it, of course. What else could I do? The person more important to me than anyone or anything in the world, setting up a mission that he _pretended_ wasn't suicide but clearly _was._ It was _so clearly _intended to do something good with the convenient side effect of being dead when it was all over. Since I didn't want him to die- didn't want to have to live without him, more accurately- and since he wouldn't be dissuaded, I tweaked his plans around so slightly that it _might_ make it possible for him to survive. It was still unlikely, especially since he would be _looking_ for a way to die, but if there was even a_ chance_... a _possibility_ that he could come out alive...

Anyway, I didn't believe in God until long after that day.

We were twenty-five, sitting together on the couch, watching TV quietly, intertwined, and he randomly informed me, "I've been seeing a psychiatrist."

I stared at him dumbly until he cocked an eyebrow. He did that when he was nervous, to cover _up_ that he was nervous. And all at once I lost control of my motor functions and I grabbed him and kissed him. He laughed, tossing his arms lazily over my shoulders, weirdly positioned as we were on the couch, and kissed back, strong, sure.

When a miracle happens in front of you, how can you _not_ believe? Mello's very existence is a miracle, as annoyingly fluffy as that sounds. No one like him should be able to exist, with all his contradictions warring against each other inside of him. Fear and idiotic bravery. Complacency and pigheadedness. Anger and serenity. And now... a _psychiatrist?_ A professional head shrinker who might be able to help him? Make him _happy_?

That was when I believed. When the best thing that could have happened for him, happened. When, without even my pestering him, he made the decision to get some help. There's no way Mello could have done that alone.

Best day of my life. No question.

And when I whispered, "Mel, there_ is_ a God," he started to laugh, and then he realized I wasn't joking.

He stared at me for a moment, shocked that I- such a staunch Atheist for _so_ long- had randomly come to the same conclusion that he'd had all along.

"Yeah, Matty," he whispered back, gentleness touching his voice, eyes unwavering from mine, "There is."

I think I reignited something for _him_ that day, as well.


End file.
